


Television

by Uozumi



Series: Tumblr fic prompts from various fandoms [3]
Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: I Blame Tumblr, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:06:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1968411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uozumi/pseuds/Uozumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: “Malc/Jamie +Television”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Television

**Author's Note:**

> **Fandom** _The Thick of It_  
>  **Character(s)/Pairing(s)** Jamie MacDonald, Malcolm Tucker; Malcolm/Jamie  
>  **Genre** Romance/Slash/Slice of Life  
>  **Rating** PG-13 (R for language)   
> **Word Count** 619  
>  **Disclaimer** The Thick of It c. Iannucci, BBC  
>  **Summary** prompt: “Malc/Jamie +Television”  
>  **Warning(s)** potential spoilers for all series and specials of _The Thick of It_  
>  **Notes** I asked Tumblr for fic prompts. Figured I might as well post them to AO3.

**_Television_ **

“If you drop it, I’m going to throw you down the fucking stairs,” Jamie said.

“I’d have you pinned down before you could even grab me,” Malcolm said.

They were hauling a rather large, old, and very, very heavy television up the stairs to Jamie’s new flat. Malcolm had one end of the television and walked it backwards up the stairs while Jamie kept hold of the lower end and moved forward. It was the final object they had to move, both of their arms ached and Jamie was fairly certain his ankle was fucked. It was the early 90’s. Malcolm and Jamie had known each other for a few years now. Malcolm was a self-made journalist, and Jamie was just an infant in the political world.

Once they reached the top of the stairs, Malcolm slowly eased his end of the television onto the floor. Jamie did the same with his end and they rested. Most people living in the complex were elsewhere. Jamie unlocked his door and opened it. They picked the television up and hauled it into the flat.

The flat was covered in boxes and things. Nothing was really where it would eventual rest, though things were organized by rooms. Jamie shut the door with his foot once they were both inside. They set the television down on the floor of the sitting room near the wall. Malcolm was the first to fall back onto the floor. Jamie laid back on the floor beside him. Jamie could see their reflections in the television screen. He watched Malcolm’s hand slide up Malcolm’s chest in the reflection. Jamie kept watching while Malcolm rubbed the fabric of his shirt against his chest to mop up a trail of sweat. Malcolm noticed Jamie staring at the screen and then he sat up.

“I told you, you need to be careful who you stare at,” Malcolm said.

“Who said I don’t want to stare,” Jamie said.

Malcolm leaned over, placing a hand by Jamie’s ear. He leaned down until all Jamie could smell was sweat and the nicotine patch on Malcolm’s wrist. Jamie held Malcolm’s gaze. “You don’t know what you want,” Malcolm whispered in Jamie’s ear.

Jamie shivered and swallowed. “You’re afraid of what I want,” he said firmly.

Malcolm leaned down far enough that his breath tickled Jamie’s neck. The fingers of his free hand lightly touched Jamie’s ear and then skimmed along Jamie’s neck. He watched a shiver run from Jamie’s head to his toes. “Then make your move.”

Jamie hesitated. The longer he froze, the more he wanted to let out a strangled scream. He had been out of seminary a few years now and the little voice in his head that propelled him into the seminary in the first place still whispered at him. It was not sure this was a good thing to do. It was not sure that Malcolm was a good person to trust with his body. The voice was not sure if anyone was a good enough person to trust with his body.

Malcolm sighed. He sat up and ran his hands through his hair before standing. Jamie let out a string of frustrated mumbling. “If God wanted you to be a priest, you’d have told me to fuck off years ago,” he said.

Jamie sat up and looked at the television screen. It gave him a very nice reflection of Malcolm’s backside. He sighed and rubbed his face. “I promised you food,” he said. “I didn’t promise you anything else.” Jamie got up from the floor and made sure he had money in his pockets.

“Then be careful of your staring,” Malcolm said. He followed Jamie out of the flat.

**The End**


End file.
